A'ole, nein, non, nada, nyet, NO!
by Cokie316
Summary: Steve's week just isn't turning out as planned.
1. Chapter 1

_**OK, first off, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth, but life has thrown another stumbling block in my pathway. Let me assure you that Pali' Pali' is still in the works, but is delayed once again. The evening after I posted the last chapter, my life did a 180 and I quite unexpectedly ended up in the hospital for an outpatient procedure… and then managed to stay there for four days. Their idea of "outpatient" and mine isn't quite the same! But all is better now.**_

_**But… since I can't have any medical symptoms without sharing them with Steve, here is a portion of my tale, told through the eyes of Steve McGarrett. The medical portions of this story are factual. The timeline is also factual. But since I am not a SEAL named McGarrett who has a Danny and Catherine, all of that is fiction and not owned by me.**_

_**And you may read this and think that Steve is totally out of character. He probably is. But the story was written as a mockery of what really happened to me. I can laugh about it now, but at the time, I growled a lot. I hope you find it amusing. And I promise, Pali' Pali' is coming…**_

_**I have one more portion of this story that should post in a couple of days. But I just had to get this out of my system. Thank you for indulging me.**_

_**~~~H50~~~**_

'_**A'ole, nein, non, nada, nyet, NO!**_

_**By Cokie**_

_**Thursday evening**_

Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett was sitting in bed, feeling fairly comfortable, all things considered. He was staring down at his feet which were covered with sticky hot, white knee socks with an added layer of gray, fuzzy, footsies on top. And he wondered, not for the first time that day, just when he had lost control of the situation, and better yet, how the hell had he let it happen?

Steve shook his head and idly scratched at the tape holding the IV in his right arm. He glared at it as if it was the cause of all his problems... but actually his tale had begun Sunday night... Granted, he supposed he _**had**_ been in the hospital a few times more than the average, normal citizen, but nothing at all like this. Generally, if he ended up here, he was either (a) bleeding; (b) unconscious; or (c) all of the above. He hesitated to admit it, but looking back on the situation, he thought he might have… not definitely, but _**might have**_ been here willingly.

And that just wasn't acceptable.

_**The previous Sunday evening**_

Steve stood on the lanai, leaning against one of the posts while looking out over the ocean. His left fist was held just under the right side of his chest and he was trying to control his breathing. _This is a case of indigestion for the record book. You didn't even eat that much._

Catherine came out the doorway and wrapped her arms around him. "You're awfully quiet tonight," she whispered against his back. "You gonna miss me?"

"Always," he admitted, dropping his hand down to his side and taking another deep breath. _OK, pressure's almost gone._ He turned around to look at her and grinned. "I miss you every single day you're—"

"Steve, what's wrong?" Catherine quickly asked, her hand immediately raised to rest against his jaw line. "You look kind of shaky."

He shook his head. _It was going away._ "Nothing. Just a case of indigestion. It's almost gone now."

"You didn't eat anything out of the ordinary tonight," she commented, giving him the third degree, making sure he wasn't lying to her.

And he wasn't. It was indigestion.

And he felt just fine for the rest of the night.

And he proved it to her.

Twice.

_**Monday**_

Catherine had left at 0600 and Steve arrived at work shortly thereafter. They hadn't had a big case since finishing one last Thursday but they were keeping tabs on a drug smuggler, just waiting for him to set up a buy so that they could go in and intercept him, the drugs, and his buyer. Sometimes patience did pay off so they were biding their time, giving him a false sense of normalcy and security.

Little did Mr. Sanchez know that his every move for the last week had been recorded.

By the time lunch had arrived, they had finished what seemed to be a full day's worth of paperwork. Danny was exceedingly glad to clear his desk because on Thursday, he and Grace had airline tickets headed East… to what he considered the only place back east worthy of visiting. It was his parent's fortieth wedding anniversary and he and Grace were going to surprise them on Thursday night. His sisters had planned a dinner party, but the real surprise was Danny and Grace who would be there until Saturday morning.

To knock his mother off the scent, he had even ordered anniversary flowers from him and Grace which were to be delivered Thursday afternoon. He had thought of that little touch himself and was quite proud of it.

And he didn't hesitate to remind his team of how well he thought on his feet.

"Yeah, yeah, Danny, your Mom will be surprised," Kono said with a laugh. "But the minute she finds out there is a party, her first words will be, 'Where are Danny and Grace.' I'll bet money on it."

"No way."

"I'll take part of that action," Chin agreed with his cousin. "Moms have a way of figuring out everything."

"Yeah, even after twenty years, they think they can rearrange your life," Steve added his two cents worth and tossed his napkin to the table.

Danny glanced across the table. "You didn't eat anything."

Steve shook his head. "Just not hungry." He stood and chucked his container of food into the trash before heading back to his office. "Chin, can you check once again with the tail on Sanchez?"

"On it. Don't worry, he'll make a move soon."

"Yeah, I know."

~~~H50~~~

Danny leaned across the dinner table. "OK, what gives? You didn't eat lunch and you've barely touched dinner and I know you love those sweet jalapeno wings."

"Yeah, I do, but I just haven't been very hungry today. I don't know why."

"Mourning the loss of your lady friend for the next couple of weeks?"

"I think I'm good with that," Steve deadpanned.

"Seriously, you might be coming down with something," Danny said.

"Nah, it will pass."

Famous last words.

They parted at the restaurant and by the time Steve got home, the pain in his chest was back. With a vengeance. Actually it was less of a pain and more of a pressure that wouldn't let up. He sat down on the couch to try and catch his breath, but sitting did nothing to alleviate the feeling. After checking the alarm and turning out the lights, he went upstairs and fell across the bed, lying on his stomach in hopes of relieving some of the pressure.

That was a bad, bad idea.

Steve finally got up and began shedding clothing on the way to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help. It sure couldn't hurt. He stood under the hot water for several minutes and managed to relax the muscles in his stomach and across his back and shoulders. And when he finally turned off the water, he felt marginally better.

Until he looked down and saw the toilet.

And just knew that was where he was headed.

In the next second he hit his knees and was spewing forth his recently-eaten dinner. After that came last night's dinner that Cath had so painstakingly made. Following that, he was certain he threw up food from Tuesday a week ago.

He could have been wrong, but he doubted it.

And finally, when there was nothing left to regurgitate, he stood up on shaky legs and flushed away the memory.

And barely had time to turn and hit the sink when another bout of whatever-this-was decided it wasn't finished with him.

He knew without a doubt he hadn't eaten that much food in… well… his entire adult life. But finally he was able to stand up instead of hugging the sink. The icky, nasty sink.

And it hit him that he was the only one there… and someone was going to have to clean out that sink, because all that grossness couldn't go down the drain.

Joy.

But after procuring a roll of paper towels and going to work, he realized the feeling in his chest was totally gone and he actually felt fine. He then deduced he must have contracted some wicked case of food poisoning. He then tried to remember the last time he ate at Kamekona's. _Nah, that was low._

No matter what, he was certainly thankful it was gone.

_**Tuesday**_

They had an early meeting with key people in HPD to once again review Sanchez's file. Things were moving forward and everyone felt confident that the operation would soon be underway.

Danny kept an eye on Steve throughout the meeting. It was barely perceptible, but something was off. Steve was certainly a man of action, but he could be as still as a door post when need be. But now, he had shifted in his seat numerous times and Danny would have sworn he had seen him shiver a time or two. All the while, Steve refused to give in to Danny's stare, even though Danny knew that Steve knew he was being stared at.

Once all the others had cleared the room, Danny leaned forward. "OK, out with it."

"Huh?" Steve jerked up, startled.

"I'm asking. What is wrong with you?" He stood up and shook his finger in his partner's face. "And don't you dare tell me 'nothing' because I am not blind, nor am I stupid."

Steve's body took that moment to choose to shiver once again.

"See. There."

"The AC is just turned up higher than normal. It's noth—"

"You cannot use that word. You're sick, aren't you?"

"No."

"It won't go on your record, Steven. No demerits. No push-ups in the middle of a monsoon. Although you'd probably like that… Now tell me, what's up?"

Steve tossed his pen onto the table and let out a breath. "I don't know. Chills, muscle aches, I just don't feel right."

"Adding this to the fact that you didn't eat yesterday, sounds like you have a bug."

"Yeah, probably. I threw up dinner last night." He didn't bother to mention just how many dinners he had thrown up. "It will get better. Nothing I haven't worked through before."

"Well, it's like this," Danny began and leaned his hip against the table in front of his partner. "We are quiet right now, so go home. There is nothing here you can do other than wait for Sanchez. Therefore I would suggest you get out of here. Or better yet, go to the doctor! Maybe get an expert opinion instead of the 'Steve McGarrett-I-can-fix-anything' idea of a diagnosis."

Steve shook his head. "Don't need a doctor. It's just a bug."

Danny stood up. "But you will go home. I just made an executive decision and I bet I'll have two more votes right out there," he waved toward the offices. "If it is a bug, you could be contagious. And, I for one don't intend to be infected by you because I have places to be this week."

Steve shivered again and grimaced at the pain that ran through his neck and down his shoulder.

"What was that?" Danny was quick to jump on any symptom he could see.

"I'm just achy," Steve finally admitted. "But… and only to appease you…" he added, "I think I will go home. Only with the agreement that you call me if anything with Sanchez happens."

"I swear. Now go. Shoo. Vamoose. I'm getting out the Lysol the minute you leave."

~~~H50~~~

Steve climbed into bed and reached for the cover, pulling it up to his ears. _Damn, he ached. Just like that time he had the flu._ No matter what, he couldn't get comfortable. He hurt when lying on his back, on his side, on his stomach. His back ached, his neck ached and he couldn't get warm. Steve was one miserable SEAL.

So, he tried his universal cure-all. He took another shower.

The muscles felt better and he was a bit warmer when he turned off the water, but other than that, he still felt sore and achy. Steve plopped down on the side of the bed and debated trying whether to sleep again and finally fell sideways, his body making up its own mind, tired of sitting there.

And even though he tossed and turned, he managed to catch some sleep, a few minutes at a time.

Around 5:45, he was instantly awake when the front door opened. Since an alarm didn't immediately go off, he figured either Danny cancelled it or he had a very stealthy, unwanted person in his house. Either way, he didn't have the energy to find out and assumed if it was Danny he would soon know. And if it wasn't, well, he would know that, too.

"It's me, Steve."

Bingo.

Danny entered the bedroom and took one look at the bed with pillows and sheets tossed every which way and the miserable-looking person who was lying in the midst of it all. "Well, my first question was going to be 'do you feel any better', but after seeing this, I don't have to ask. Get your ass in gear, McGarrett, you're going to the doctor."

Steve burrowed further into the covers. "Can't. They close at five."

"Ah, but you're wrong. Queens has an after-care program. We had to take Gracie once when she had a fever. And we are now taking _**you**_. And while I may have to do it with you kicking and screaming, I swear, you are going to be checked out."

Steve huffed. And then he slowly sat on the side of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. "All right."

"I beg your pardon? Did I hear that right?"

"I said 'all right' Danny. Jeez, don't gloat. And find me a pair of pants."

"Aye, aye, Sir." He muttered and picked up a pair of shorts from the floor. "Are these good enough?"

"Whatever. Just give them here."

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 111111111111111111111111111

Interlude, compliments of Rusty, my cat. He has a one track mind. Get it…. Yeah, I am still on some pain meds. Can you tell?

~~~H50~~~

"OK, Commander, you have a fever of 100.4," the female doctor whose name he couldn't understand, said. At least that's what he thought she had said. Her name wasn't the only thing he was having trouble understanding. "Along with the aches and chills, my guess is that you have a viral infection. You mentioned you threw up last night? Are there any other symptoms?"

"Well, yeah, I sort of had pressure right here," Steve finally admitted to someone and rubbed the area on his chest.

"All right. Lay down and let me see." She pulled up his shirt and began feeling around his chest and abdomen. Nothing hurt when she pressed, prodded or manipulated. And she didn't hold back and was mashing around pretty strongly. "I'm not feeling anyzing out of the ordinary."

He heard the word 'anyzing'."

"Um, well, that's good," he replied. "Isn't it?" He sat back up on the exam table.

"I think zo. If you have that feeling come back, go to the emergency room and have it checked out. They would be able to do an ultrazound to see if there iz something."

He knew he was losing it. He had worked with people who had accents for his entire adult life and now, all he could focus on was this woman's accent and pronunciation. This wasn't politically correct at all… not to mention the fact that it _was _ highly rude. Maybe he really was sick.

"I will give you a prescription for something to help with nauzea. Begin taking it tonight and then stay off work tomorrow. You could be contagious and I wouldn't want you to pazz this along."

"No, well, I might have to go to work."

"Commander, I would strongly advize against it."

He nodded. "But only unless we have a crisis. Then I'll have to be there."

She shook her head sadly and he read her mind, knowing she thought his IQ was only slightly above that of a gnat. "If you muzt."

Steve met Danny in the waiting area, prescription in hand. "Stomach bug," he told him. "This is for nausea but I probably won't—"

Danny snatched the piece of paper from his grasp. "Which you will take. You ready?"

He received nothing more than a steely-eyed glare.

Which might have been worth something if Steve hadn't shivered at the same time.

~~~H50~~~

_**Wednesday**_

Steve woke Wednesday morning feeling like a new person. The shakes and shivers were gone and after a long, hot shower he could get used to this the aches and pains were gone, too.

He immediately called work and found out that Sanchez still hadn't made a move. He told Danny he was on his way in but was quickly struck down. They all three yelled into the phone for him to keep his germs at home.

Feeling dejected, he sat outside for a while. Since he didn't have the energy for a swim or a run, he stayed close to home. He wasn't hungry, so lunchtime came and went and he didn't eat. Even water tasted weird, but he figured that was due to the pills he had taken. He may have dozed sometime during the early afternoon, but would have denied that fact to anyone. SEALS don't do naps.

Once he was upright once again, he decided to become productive and pulled out the lawn mower. Steve had contracted with a kid in the neighborhood to do the lawn, but only with the stipulation that if he was free himself, he would do it. If the kid noticed it looked too ragged for the neighbors' tastes, then he had permission to mow. It didn't take long and other than the fact that he was finally beginning to feel a bit hungry, Steve felt great.

He took a quick dip in the ocean to cool off and rinse off the sweat. Knowing he had had enough exercise for a 'sick' day, he swam parallel to shore for a few yards, then turned over on his back and floated, enjoying the afternoon breeze.

He could smell a rain shower heading his way and climbed out of the water, put away the lawn mower and sat on the lanai to wait it out. Rain over the ocean was spectacular and nights like this were something he had truly missed while living away from his home. While contemplating the choices he had made to stay here, he was interrupted by the phone and he reached for it immediately.

"Sanchez?"

"No, this is Danny, your partner."

"I know who… never mind. Did Sanchez make a move?"

"Not a smidgen. Just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling any better and do you need anything?"

"Yes and no. I feel fine and I'm good. Being off today was a waste because I haven't been sick at all."

"Yeah, well, we cleaned the office of any lingering SEAL germs while you were gone. Who knows what was lurking about in the corners."

"Very funny."

"Well, if you're doing OK, I'm gonna head home and pack. Because in case I haven't told you, I'm going to Jersey tomorrow."

"Lucky you."

"Don't get snide, Steven."

Steve chuckled. "I meant it. I'm happy for you and Grace. I'm sure she is excited, too."

"Yeah, she is. And my mom won't believe how much Gracie has changed."

"It will be a good trip. Now, go home and pack."

"Call me if you need anything."

"Sheesh, Danno, I'm fine."

Steve's stomach rumbled once again as he hung up the phone and he knew he needed to eat something since he had gone without all day. But the good news was that whatever bug, food poisoning, or infection he had, it was gone. He felt great.

A bowl of vegetable soup later, he added the words 'not-so' to the beginning of 'great'. Maybe the bug wasn't gone because he was feeling nauseous again. Nothing like before, but the sneaky bug had been hiding.

The thought of throwing up like he had done Monday night was almost freaking him out. Never could he remember throwing up like that and he really didn't want a repeat performance. But the longer he waited, the worse it would be, so he trudged into the kitchen and grabbed the trash can and sat down. He didn't have long to wait.

Steve would have argued with the best of them that there is no way a 10 ounce can of Campbell's vegetable soup could morph… a mere two hours later… into a couple of gallons of vile liquid. OK, maybe only a gallon. But he tied off the trash bag and set it out on the lanai, waiting to feel better like he had on Monday.

Only that didn't happen. The "feeling" was back. Pressure to the right of his breastbone. And, if possible, it was worse than it had been on Monday. Something he found hard to believe possible.

Steve walked the floor. Again, he sat, he fidgeted, laid down on the couch, and then repeated the process. Finally he walked outside toward the water and walked along the shore, letting the waves lap up to his knees. Anything to take his mind off of the discomfort in his chest.

But nothing was working. And in his head, he kept hearing, "If zee pain comez back, you need to go to the emergency room". He really didn't need that.

Did he?

This wasn't going away this time. He thought about a shower, then looked at the steps upstairs and knew he had no desire to climb them. And, deep down, he knew a shower wouldn't make this pain go away.

He hated himself. But Steve reached for his phone and glanced at the clock, just then realizing it was 2330. Tapping the appropriate icon, he waited.

"Ah, Steven, do you need me now?"

"Dan— Um…"

"Steve? What's wrong?"

"Sick. Can you—"

"Sit tight. I'm on my way."

And in less than ten minutes he was there. Steve's first clue was the blue lights strobing through his front window.

Danny found Steve pacing the living room. "OK, what's going on?" he asked after entering the house.

"Unauthorized use of lights…"

"Yeah, yeah, hey, come on, sit down and talk to me," Danny reached for Steve's arm to get him onto the couch, but his partner veered away, out of his grasp.

"No, can't sit. Danny, I think maybe I need the ER. Pressure won't go away."

"OK, we can do that. Let me call EMS."

"No… car is good. But, let's just go."

Danny looked around the room. "Do you need anything? Got your wallet?"

"Yeah."

"Phone?"

"Yeah. Hey, my charger. Can you get it?"

"On it." Danny knew Steve kept one in the kitchen, so he took the one from the counter and was quickly back in the living room.

Steve must have been in a hurry… he had the front door already opened, ready to go. Danny punched in the security code and they walked to the car… with Steve's pace at least six times slower than normal.

"Which hospital? Tripler?" Danny asked.

Steve thought for a moment while they waited at the light. Left to Queens; right to Tripler. "Queens is closer."

Danny hit his left blinker. "Queens it is."

"And Danny?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

"Use the lights."

"Thought you'd never ask."

~~~H50~~~

Thirty minutes later Steve was in a triage pod in the emergency room. They had taken his blood pressure (low), temperature (normal) and pulse. She didn't say, but he would bet it had skyrocketed off the charts. He was sitting in a closet-sized room with space for barely two chairs and a small desk. He felt silly fidgeting, but he couldn't be still. He was sitting on a cold, hard plastic chair but no matter how he tried to sit, nothing worked.

The triage nurse noticed his discomfort while she continued to ask questions, and paused in the research phase of her thesis of Steve McGarrett: 101. "Sorry, but we need to get a history, it won't take much longer," she assured him.

"You've got my file here," Steve told her.

"Yes, and quite a hefty one it is," she agreed, "I'll check through it, but I'm doing a work up on this medical event. Now, let's get back to this… when did you say the symptoms began?"

So, he began his tale of woe.

After a few minutes, she stood and asked the woman in the next cubicle if she was ready for him. With a smile, first nurse, Deidra, she had said, held open the door and told him she hoped he felt better soon.

_Gee, ya think?_

He moved to the next room, only to discover that he was in a business office.

"Please have a seat for a moment, Mr. McGarrett. We'll get you processed and back in a room before you know it."

He sat. Begrudgingly. Because his memory of ERs were that they had rooms with drugs in them. And because if he didn't get something soon, he just might lose it.

"I just need an ID and an insurance card," the lady behind the desk asked.

Steve stood and pulled out his wallet. He tossed his insurance card and driver's license on the desk and hoping for a little bit of intimidation, set his badge next to them. "There."

Maybe that wasn't polite but he was beyond caring. He slowly sat back down to wait.

She took the items and ignored him while typing into her computer. "Hmm… good insurance. At least everything is covered for you. Here you go, you can have your things back. Just a few more moments; I'm sorry, my printer is being a bit slow tonight."

Steve had his arm leaning on the desk, trying to remain upright in the chair without screaming obscenities in six different languages. He wondered if begging would help.

"All right. Now, if you could sign here and here, and date this page. Then we'll turn it over and I'll need your initials in a couple of places."

_Finally. Forward movement._

He knew what his own signature looked like. And funny thing, what he scribbled on that paper looked nothing like normal. There was an "S". Other than that, it was anyone's guess. He snorted. _Geez, was he getting delirious?_

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that's not my signature. Don't know who wrote it."

"Well, I will vouch that you just did." She smiled and he thought the smile looked quite patronizing.

In fact, very patronizing. So he just shut up.

"Just another moment, we're waiting on the printer once again."

_Of course we are._

"Here you go. May I have your right wrist, please?"

"Huh?"

"Your bracelet. I need to identify you."

"Oh." He held out his shaky right arm and she fastened the flimsy white strip into place.

"Now, let me get Deidra once again and we can get you into a room. Is anyone with you?"

"Yeah, my… friend Danny. In the lobby."

"Shall I get him?"

Steve nodded to her when Deidra arrived. "This way, Commander. I apologize, I didn't realize who you were before."

"S'OK." He followed her to a small room with an exam table, cabinet, a couple of chairs and an adjoining bathroom. Nothing at all like the rooms he generally ended up in while in the ER.

"The doctor will be right with you. Please take off your shirt and boardies and put on the gown with the ties in the back." She handed him a faded gray gown with blue and red diamond shapes on it, then turned to leave just as Danny arrived.

"Have they done anything yet?" Danny asked as Steve stepped into the bathroom and carefully pulled off his tee shirt.

Steve answered through the open door, "Just got in here."

"What the hell have you been doing for 45 minutes?"

"Answering questions." He picked up his shorts and shirt and came back into the exam room. At Danny's disbelieving look, he added, "Lots and lots of questions."

"Nice attire."

"Bite me."

Steve remained a body in motion. Lying down, sitting, standing, standing and leaning over the table, pacing the small room, deep breathing, panting, holding his breath, any and everything. Nothing helped.

All the while watching the clock, wondering when the elusive doctor would show up.

It took 27 flippin' minutes.

"Commander, Aloha. Sorry for the delay. I'm Dr. Cassie Liu. Could you have a seat for me, please."

Steve sat back down.

"Now, can you tell me what's going on with you?"

"I just told… outside."

"Yes, of course, but I want to hear everything for myself."

And so he began…

When he finished, she motioned him to lie back on the table. "And this really began just Sunday night?"

"Ye-ah!" She had pulled the gown down to his waist and her probing fingers touched the exact spot that was killing him.

"And no history before that time?"

"No, just some indigestion, but everybody gets that, right?"

She nodded. "From time to time. Does this hurt?" She moved her fingers around his abdomen and he answered no several times until she found his 'spot' once again.

"Aah. Right there."

She smiled and stepped back. "Looks like classic gall bladder. We can run a couple of tests and if they are positive, we can get that pesky thing out of there. How does that sound?"

"When?"

"When, what?" she asked.

"When can you take it out?"

"My guess would be first thing in the morning. But we need some tests first. How about I send Deidra back in with some pain meds?"

He could hear the relief in his own voice. "Pain meds would be good." _That didn't sound like a whine, did it? _

"Just give us a moment." She began jotting in his chart. "Are you allergic to any medications?"

"No."

"Allergic to Latex?"

"No."

"OK, let me give the chart to Deidra."

As soon as the door closed, Danny began. "All that has been going on since Sunday and you failed to mention any of it?"

Steve sat back up on the table, and tied the gown in the back, not making eye contact with his friend. "Told you I threw up…"

"Left a few details out, don't you think?"

Steve shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Gall bladder surgery is outpatient, right?"

"I think so. Don't worry, you'll be fine. But…"

"But what?"

"You know I won't be here, right?"

"Danny they can pull out my gall bladder without you watching. I was just thinking, they do this in the morning and I'll be good to go if and when Sanchez sets up his buy."

"You moron, forget about Sanchez. Chin, Kono and HPD are fully capable of handling Sanchez. What a nincompoop—"

The door opened and Deidra brought in his chart and a handful of tubing and vials.

"Ready for some drugs?" she asked, her smile and voice way too cheerful for going on oh-two-hundred hours.

"Yeah."

She scanned the barcode on his bracelet and asked, "What's your full name and birthdate?"

"Steve McGarrett. March 10, 1977." _Don't you have that in the file?_

"Are you allergic to any medications?"

"No. The doctor just—"

"Sorry, I have to ask. Are you allergic to Latex?"

"No."

"Good. Now make a fist for me and let me see those veins." She glanced down. "Oh, you're going to make it easy for me." She pulled out a tourniquet. "No Latex allergy, right?"

"No." _Sheesh, does anyone around here listen?_

Once the rubber band was in place, she stuck him near the crook of his right arm. Before I can push the drugs I need to draw some blood, so just give me a minute."

Steve concentrated on breathing, the feeling in his chest almost driving him mad. Surely there would be relief soon.

The nurse filled three vials of blood before setting them aside. She then reached for a full syringe of clear liquid.

_About damn time._

"Now, I need to flush the line before I can push any meds. "And this has to go in slowly, so bear with me."

_Silly me. Slowly, of course._

In the midst of the flush drug, Steve had the overwhelming urge to sit up. He had to. Immediately. "Sorry, can I sit up? Just for a min—"

"Of course it's all right. But if you feel light headed, you need to lie back down."

"Steve, you OK?" Danny asked, leaning forward from his chair in the corner.

He nodded and tried to catch his breath. "Just couldn't lie there any longer."

"OK, now I'm ready for the good stuff," Deidra said. "But probably not as ready as you are, right?"

Steve nodded his thanks.

"It will take maybe a minute before you begin feeling the effects. This is Dilaudid so you might want to go ahead and lie back down."

"I will in a second. Sitting up is easier. Don't feel it yet." He looked at her, hoping she wasn't teasing and this really wasn't a dud of a drug.

When he turned his head, the monitor on the wall did a flip and suddenly he could feel the beginnings of relief touching his chest. "OK," he sighed and sort of slithered back on the bed. "Think I'll lie down."

"That's a good choice," the nurse said, grinning at him. "Sorry it takes forever before we can get to this step." She took the syringe out of the IV tubing and gathered her things. It was then that he realized that sometime in the last few minutes, she had hung a huge bag with IV fluids.

"We'll leave you alone for a few minutes, then Dr. Liu will be back in."

"Thanks."

"Don't try to get up by yourself, all right."

"Yeah."

She flipped the light switch off before she left the room.

Steve threw his left arm over his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. A pain-free sigh of relief. "Danno?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"You can go home and get some sleep. I'm OK now."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Steven. I don't have to be at the airport until ten, so we're good. Why don't you get some rest?"

"'M'K."

_**~~~H50~~~**_

Dr. Liu interrupted their conversation about 45 minutes later and returned, flipping on the lights. Once the pain had subsided, Steve found he wasn't ready for sleep, so he had asked Danny about his parent's house in Jersey. Danny was telling of a time he had been trying to sneak back into the house after curfew. They were laughing because Steve had made fun of the fact that Danny actually had a curfew.

"You look like you're feeling better," Liu said, smiling at him. He was sitting up, leaning against the back of the raised exam table.

"Much better," Steve admitted.

"Well, I've got some good news and some bad news," she began.

"What?"

"In cases such as yours, we normally do an ultrasound to confirm stones in the gall bladder. Unfortunately, the ultrasound for outpatient use is shut off at the moment for cleaning and a reboot, so that option is out until morning. And I know you would rather keep the ball moving than waiting until morning for some tests." *

*technically, here the ultrasound tech called in sick, but that probably wouldn't fly in a hospital such as Queens…

"Hell, yeah. So what do we do?"

"We can do a CAT scan. It will detect much of the same and we can have it ready to be read by our radiologist and the surgeon in the morning. How does that sound?"

"Let's do it." Steve knew what CAT scans entailed. Piece of cake.

"I thought you would agree. I've already sent in the order and Radiology should be here to pick you up soon."

For once, it really was quick and by 0330, the orderly came in with a wheel chair to take him for the test. "Hi, my name is Piaku and I'm your designated driver for the evening. Can you tell me your name and birthdate?"

"Steve McGarrett. March 10, 1977." _Just go with it._

"Need any help getting into the chair?"

"I think I can manage." Steve was able to roll his eyes at Danny as he passed by and knew his partner was waiting for them to leave the room before he laughed out loud at the situation Steve found himself in.

Once downstairs, a technician met him and explained the procedure. He wanted to interrupt and say he had been in these contraptions before, but he let her have her spiel. Besides, he knew it wouldn't hurry up the process anyway…

"Now, before you get on the table, let me scan your wrist. Can you tell me your full name and birthdate?"

_Just say it and shut up. _ "Steve McGarrett, March 10, 1977."

"Good. Now, do you require any aids at home? Wheelchair, crutches, anything that would hinder you from getting on the table without help?"

He bit his lip and wanted to shout, _I am a SEAL, dammit, and still able to walk on my own two feet…_ Instead, he said, "No, ma'am, I'm good."

"All right, you need to lie this-" He was on the table before she could continue. "OK, I guess you've got this." Now the machine will tell you when to breathe and when to hold your breath. Just follow the verbal cues. Not to worry, I will be in here with you the entire time, just behind this screen…"

The entire procedure, once she got quiet, took maybe 30 seconds. Max. And he was in his wheelchair with Piaku taking him back to the emergency room before 0400. At 0430, Dr. Liu was back, another pained look on her face.

"Well, that little gall bladder is about three times its normal size, so it needs to come out of there quickly. But we have run into another, smallish bump in the road."

Steve just stared at her.

Danny stared at Steve, amazed at his restraint. And wondered, not for the first time that night, if he could requisition Dilaudid to have on hand for emergency situations. Because it appeared that Dilaudid made for a mellow McGarrett.

Dr. Liu continued, having felt the stare. "GB removal is outpatient surgery, you knew that, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Unfortunately I just tried to admit you and all of our outpatient beds are filled. And they won't become available until early this afternoon when the first batch of patients are discharged. So, our options are for you to wait here in the ER until then, or we can send you to another hospital."

"OK, let's go somewhere else. Danny, can take me…"

She held up her hand. "Not so fast. Yes, we can transport to another facility, but since you have already been admitted, you are under our care, so any transport needs to be by ambulance. Sorry, your friend can't drive you."

Steve shrugged. "OK, still let's do this. I need this over with ASAP."

"Even with a move to another facility, with the gall bladder the size it is, they will want it out of there sooner than later, so my guess is that surgery will still be scheduled this morning. Now, I noticed your insurance was military, so would you rather go to Tripler or another facility?"

Steve looked at Danny and they spoke at the same time, "Should'a turned right." Danny shook his head and grinned as Steve told her that Tripler would be fine.

"I have to call for EMS. Hopefully it won't be long before they arrive. I'm sorry for this hiccup."

"Just as long as things happen soon, I'm good," Steve replied.

It was 0530 before two twenty-something 'girls' came in banging a gurney against the walls in the hallway, both complaining because their backs hurt and they had to pull an all-night shift. Danny glanced at Steve, his eyes wide in wonder and concern. Not only for his safety on the drive, but if that girl's uniform stretched any further, Steve might lose an eye from a projectile button during the trip.

"OK, hiya, I'm Marley and this is Katie. We're here to take you to…" she paused and searched the paper in her hand.

…"Tripler," Steve offered….

…"yeah, that's it, Tripler. The military hospital, right? They make it such a pain to get in there. You gotta stop at a gate and wait for someone to clear you. You're name McGarrett?"

"Yes."

"OK, what's your full name and birthdate?"

_Did this state give you a license to operate machinery?_ "Steve McGarrett, March 10, 1977."

Katie was removing Steve's IV from the pole next to the exam table. "You gonna be able to get on the gurney by yourself or do you need help?"

"I'm good."

"OK, hop to it. Once you're settled, we'll grab your chart from out front."

They turned and had barely left the room before Danny began to laugh.

"Just. Shut. Up."

"Don't look at her straight on," Danny whispered. "That button might put out your eye."

"That's not my biggest problem," Steve whispered back. "Combined, they don't have the IQs of a piece of toast. How'd the State hire them?"

"I don't know, but I'll follow the ambulance to make sure you don't disappear," Danny assured him.

"No," Steve decided, in work mode once again. "You are going home and getting some rest before you have to pick up Gracie. And that's an order."

"You can't order me, McGarrett. I'm on my own time and I'm staying as long as I can."

"No, you're not. Look, with any luck, this will all be over and I can talk to you when you land in San Diego. I'll probably be home before you even make it to Jersey."

Danny mulled over the validity of those words. "You sure you don't mind me leaving you now?"

"No. Please, Danny. I really appreciate you picking me up and hanging out here."

"Yeah, it's been fun."

"Not my first choice of words, but it's been a night to remember."

"OK, Babe. I'll call you from California. And I'm also going to call Chin and Kono and warn them that you can't show your face in the office. Or there will be hell to pay when I return. Capisce?"

"Yeah…" Steve mumbled.

"Steven?"

"I said 'yes'. While you're at it, would you mind calling the governor, too?"

"Not a problem."

Marley was back. "You ready?"

"Let's do it," Steve told her as she moved the gurney and got behind it. "Have a good trip, Danny."

"Not as good as yours…" he replied with a grin.

_**~~~H50~~~**_

The gurney was shoved… literally… into the back of the bus and Katie got in with him. "Marley is our driver and I'll be back here with you," she told him while fastening seatbelts on the gurney. "You want to sit or lay back?"

"Sit up, please." _He would have to remember to tell Danny that his eyesight had been spared. _ _But that meant that the other one was actually driving a vehicle._

She jerked the head of the bed upright, giving him quite a head rush. "There you go."

After tossing a black strap over his shoulders, the buckle hitting him in the abdomen, he was quite glad that the Dilaudid was still working. She placed a BP cuff on his arm and turned it on and then placed a clip on his finger.

"Now, I'm going to sit back here and ask you some questions for our files. First, gimme your full name and birthdate."

_The same as it was when you asked 15 minutes ago…_ "Steve McGarrett, March 10, 1977."

"All right, Mr. McGarrett, are you allergic to any medications?"

"No." _What difference does that make now? I'm in the back of an ambulance._

As if reading his mind, she clarified. "Just in case you code or something on the trip."

"Ah." _Frightening thought._ _Please don't come near me with a needle. _

"And are you allergic to Latex?"

"Not the last time I checked."

"Is that a 'no'?"

"That would be a no."

"OK, just sit back and enjoy the ride."

That was easier said than done. He hadn't caught Marley's last name, but it was quite possible it was Andretti the way she took turns. The buckle on that seatbelt was at maximum restraint a couple of times.

He was also glad there was nothing in his stomach.

_**~~~H50~~~**_

_**Thursday morning**_

Coming into a hospital via ambulance does speed up the triage process to a degree. He was in a curtained-off cubicle by 0605. Now, he just had to wait. The last doctor indicated that he should be in surgery by 0800.

It was 0730 before anyone came to check on him. Hell, he could have died and decomposed before then.

"Hi,Commander. I am Anna Dorsey, your nurse for the morning. I called Dr. Bennett' office when you arrived and left a message with his service. He had surgery early this morning but will be here soon to speak with you. Could you please give me your full name and birthdate?" While he recited the words, she picked up his wrist to read the information… just in case he had decided to lie about it.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Could I have a drink?"

"Ah, can I get you anything else? Once you are admitted, you are NPO. I'm sorry."

"How about, can I rinse out my mouth? I upchucked last night and my mouth is really dry and tastes disgusting." He gave her what he thought was his nicest smile.

She again shook her head. "I'm sorry, NPO includes anything by mouth."

"I'll spit it out!" he shot back.

She patted his leg. "I'll check on you in a bit. Here is your call button if you need anything. Lab will be here shortly for some blood work."

So much for smiles.

A lab tech who could have been Doogie Houser's younger brother came in for blood. "Hey, there, my name is Adam and I vant to suck your blood." Adam grinned. "I find that patients like a bit of humor."

"Uh, yeah. Great."

"This won't take long. Can you give me your name and birthdate?"

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.1977."

"And are you allergic—"

"No to meds and no to Latex."

"OK… well, let's get started. Want to make a fist for me?"

_Want to know what I can do with my fist, Adam? _

_~~~H50~~~_

Steve stared at the clock on the wall outside of his little world. 0830. _So much for surgery by 0800._ And Dorsey had yet to make another appearance, although a lot of people were interested in the man next to him. Apparently, _**he**_ had attempted sticking his fingers in a grinder. The hand surgeon had already visited the moron and they were waiting to take him up for surgery. And he got here _**after**_ Steve had.

What's fair about that?

"Commander, I placed another call to Dr. Bennett' office. He has been delayed, but they assured me that someone from his surgical staff would be here soon."

"OK, I was told I would have surgery this morning," Steve reminded her.

"And that is probably still the case. But, like I said, the doctor has been delayed. Would you like me to turn on your TV?"

"No thank you."

Steve played with his phone. Checked in with Chin and Kono, who both offered their condolences at his delay. Didn't want to call Danny because he wanted Danny on the plane, oblivious to Steve's sucky day. Began a game of 'Words with Friends' with some unknown, obvious pathetic, person. Come on, he couldn't let any of his friends know that he played games on his phone.

His phone rang at 1030. Danny. Steve was torn whether to answer or not, but finally gave in, if only to hear a friendly voice.

"Hey."

"Steve? How?"

"Who'd you think you called?"

"Are you… I mean, how do you feel?"

"Frustrated, if you must know. The doctor is tied up. No one other than a nurse and a vampire have been by and nothing has been done."

"Ouch," Danny said. "Look, Steve, I'm sorry. I wish this trip was another weekend."

"Hey, come on, Danny, it's not your fault. Besides I doubt you could get anyone here to cooperate."

"Well, we're boarding soon and I was just going to leave you a message… and, wait, hang on, Monkey… Grace wants to tell you good bye."

"Hi, Uncle Steve. I'm sorry you're sick."

"I'm OK, Gracie. You have a good trip, OK?"

"I will, but I'll miss you."

"Miss you, too. But you need to be there to keep Danno out of trouble, OK?"

She giggled. "Yeah, I will."

"Hey, Gracie," Steve whispered. "Make Danno tell you how he snuck into the house past his curfew one night. See if he can demonstrate-"

"Danno had a curfew?"

"Hey, gimme that phone. Steven, I swear, you are such a child."

"Bye, Danno."

"Talk to you later, Partner."

"Yeah, later. Safe travels. See… I made it in one piece."

"So you did. I'm going to be getting in really late here, but I'll call you. We're staying at my sister's tonight so Mom won't know we're here, but I'll call. Bye, Steve, take care."

Steve ended the call and grinned. Yeah, he was glad he answered.

_**~~~H50~~~**_

Time did have the ability to crawl. If he had his SIG, he would have shot the clock. Hell, if he'd had his SIG, he might have shot himself. The pain was beginning to come back and his mouth felt like he had swallowed the Sahara. He'd been there; he knew what it was like. In addition, he had a killer headache from all the lying around and doing nothing.

And Dorsey finally showed her face again. "I'm sorry, I know no one has come to see you. I do apologize."

Steve raised his head from the gurney and glared. "Gee, thanks. Still in surgery, I presume."

She moved further into the room. "Honestly, I don't know," she admitted, the frustration evident. "I can't get anyone on his staff to even call me back. And I'm going to guess by the look on your face that you are lying there in pain. Unfortunately, without a call from the doctor, I can't give you any pain meds."

Steve shrugged one shoulder. "It's not bad, but I've got the headache from hell."

"Do you take Tylenol?"

"Yeah."

She patted his arm. "Well, I _**can**_ administer that. Be right back."

Five minutes later, she came in with a chart and two small cups. "See, if you had asked for Tylenol earlier rather than asking for water, you could have had a drink a long time ago."

"Guess I just don't know my way around here," he grinned while reaching for the pills.

"Can you tell me your full name and birthdate?"

He sighed. Not loudly, but still… "Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

She pulled a scan gun from her pocket and scanned his wristband, then handed him two Tylenol.

He put them in his mouth, longingly wishing for at least three of them, and swallowed the paltry amount of water she provided.

"Sorry, that's all I can give you."

"Better than nothing," he told her. "Thanks."

"Wish I could turn out that light, but it is one of the emergency system lights and remains on all the time."

"It's fine," he told her, closing his eyes. _Now, please go away._

"We just received a fax and Radiology ordered an ERCP for you, so at least they looked at your CAT scan. Hopefully the surgeon will be here soon."

"Thanks."

He thought he may have dozed until a loud voice asked, "McGarrett?"

"Yeah?" He opened his eyes and blinked to see a short female standing at the edge of the gurney he was on.

"I'm here to take you for your Endoscopy."

"Uh, no. I'm having my gall bladder out."

"Probably," the she said, "but we're going to Endo right now. Give me your name and birth date."

Steve dropped his head back to the bed. "Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

"All right," she muttered while pulling the gurney out into the hallway, then moving to the head of the bed. "My name's Tisha, you might want to move your hand, I don't want to bang it on the door frame," she added at the same moment the knuckles of his left hand hit the frame.

"See what I mean, they don't make these openings big enough."

_Maybe they should hire people who can see over the top of the bed to do the pushing._

They moved out into a hallway and turned a corner, nearly running into another gurney that was waiting for the elevator.

"I been waitin' fo' ten minutes, girl. This thang ain't gonna come anytime soon."

_Oh, great._

Tisha grabbed her cell phone. "I'm gonna call them again and tell them this ain't acceptable. We got work to do around here and can't do it 'cause we can't go places. But we're heading to the other elevators. Come on, I ain't waitin' around here."

Tisha didn't get through to 'them' but Steve was thankful she hung up the phone because that allowed her to drive with two hands instead of the one she was attempting. If he had not had a headache before this trip began, he would have had one by now. He opened his eyes when he heard voices and saw that they were traveling right through the first level, main lobby of the hospital.

_Oh, get me the hell out of here. Do you have brains? Use them!_

"Now, here we are." They slowed at another bank of elevators, the other gurney right behind them.

"Tish, we can't use these elevators. They're for visitors."

"You just try and let them tell me I can't use this. We got places to be, don't we, Hon?"

_Don't you dare try to blame this on me…_

They went up to the second floor, onto a pedway over the street… a pedway with dingy windows, which in Steve's estimation had never seen a cleaner. The heat was also stifling and there was NO ventilation whatsoever to counteract the hot sun shining through the walls and ceiling made of glass. Once on the other side, and down on another elevator, Tisha and Steve finally reached their destination.

Thankfully.

He was taken into a holding room and Tisha left. A male voice asked, "Do we have that consent form signed yet?" as the man came into the room. He looked down at Steve as a nurse brought in a chart. "This isn't signed." He looked at Steve in disappointment.

"We need this signed."

_Well, duh._

"This is the first I've seen that form but I'm not signing it until I know what's going on. I was told I was having my gall bladder out today."

"Oh, sorry. Didn't they come and talk to you in ER?"

"No."

The doctor pulled up a three wheeled stool. "I'm Dr. Lavery and I apologize. Someone should have come to talk to you. The radiologist and I went over your CAT scan this morning and found two rather large stones that have lodged in your bile duct." He reached for a diagram of the abdomen and drew two round, black circles on the paper. "Here and here. If we don't get these out before they remove the gall bladder, there won't be any access to them. This is called an ERCP, in which I'll thread a video camera and some long tweezers in through your mouth and retrieve them. Any questions?"

Steve stared.

"I know, someone really should have talked to you before now."

_No shit, Sherlock._

"OK, let's do it. Where do I sign?"

The doctor reached for the white bracelet and asked, "What's your name and birth date?"

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

"Please sign here and here, and initial here that I have explained the procedure to you."

Done and done.

The doctor said someone would be with him shortly and left the room, clipboard in hand. And Steve waited.

"Steve McGarrett, as I live and breathe, I saw your name on the roster and couldn't believe it. Remember me, Kiki from Kikui High? I was on the cheerleading squad the year you were quarterback.** How're you doing?"

**ok, in real life, this was a band mom from my kids high school days and she really wasn't obnoxious, she was nice. We caught up. It was rather weird as I felt at a slight disadvantage.

"Uh, hi. I'm good… I guess."

"Yeah, well, we'll take real good care of you. Damn, I can't believe you're here in my suite."

The nurse came in and introduced herself, saying she would take him to the treatment area. Kiki trailed right along with them, talking the entire time until they moved the gurney up next to treatment table and another face came into his line of vision.

"Hi, my name is Janice and I'm your anesthetist. Let me explain what will happen. First, we'll need you to roll off this bed onto the table on your stomach. We'll give you a bit of oxygen to help you breathe and place a rubber mouthpiece into your mouth. After a bit of anesthesia, we'll begin. This should be over in half an hour and I understand they have a room waiting for you upstairs in the surgery wing. Do you have any questions?"

"No, let's do it."

"Can you give me your name and birth date?"

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

"Are you allergic to any medications?"

"No."

"How about to Latex? Any allergies to it?"

"No."

"OK, let me help you into position. Left arm here, right arm up by your face so I can reach the IV."

Steve tried to roll _with_ his sheet, but it was snatched away quickly by unseen hands. He prayed they weren't Kiki's.

Janice moved to the head of the bed and placed an oxygen canula under his nose. Another voice said, "I'm placing a pillow under your ankles and feet and then Janice asked him to open his mouth while at the same time she tried shoving a rubber bit in there that felt like what you'd use on a horse. "There you go. Now I'm going to insert some medication into your IV. Believe it or not, you're going to taste something in your mouth."

_That's not possible. No, wait, it is possible. And that is disgus…_

~~~H50~~~

Steve woke up when his gurney came to a stop in the small holding room. He opened his eyes… and was met by Kamekona's round face filling his line of vision. "Hey, Bruddah. How go'zit?"

Steve was shocked. "O-K, I guess. What are you doing here, Big Guy?"

"Well, these places aren't a favorite of mine, but a bruddah can't be in the hospital alone. Heard the rumor mill and decided to pay you a visit. Specially since da Williams' fambly is headed to da Jersey Shore. Although you're kinda hard to find down here."

"I bet. How long have you waited?"

"Just got here myself. They said your medical procedure was finished and for me to hang tight. Now, what can I do for you? Just name it."

"Nothing. I'm just waiting," Steve said, then turned his head when Dr. Lavery entered the room.

"Can I have a couple minutes with my patient, please?" the doctor asked and Steve saw his eyes widen when Kame stood up from the quite-small three-wheeled stool.

"No worries. I'll just be right outside. I promise you that, McGarrett."

Dr. Lavery shook his head. "How're you feeling? Any pain?"

"None. What'd you find?"

"We managed to get the two stones out of there, although one of them was a bit obstinate. I ending up slicing the end of the duct in case another stone gets there before we get the gall bladder out tomorrow. That way, it can pass on through."

"Tomorrow? I thought surgery would be today."

"Eh, after this procedure, we should wait a bit. Don't want to mess too much with your gut."

"Doctor," Kiki's voice said from behind Steve's head. "Steve has a room waiting whenever he's ready. Just let me know when to call for transport."

The doctor looked back at Steve. "Any nausea or pain?"

He shook his head. "No, nothing."

"Go ahead and call, Kiki." Turning back to Steve, he said, "Either I or someone on my staff will check with you later this afternoon. Get some rest."

" 'K."

Kame came back in and said, "I'm gonna let you rest, Bruddah, but how about I whip up some shrimp and eggs for you tonight. That'd make any intes-tines feel better."

_You __**can**__ actually feel a stomach roll over._

Steve quickly swallowed. "Ah, sorry but I haven't been very hungry. But thanks. I'll come visit for lunch when I get out of here."

"Anytime, Brah. You take care of yourself.

_**~~~H50~~~**_

Steve closed his eyes when an orderly began the trip to his room. Funny, this time it didn't take twenty minutes. They got on an elevator and headed to the sixth floor and were there before he realized it. What he did realize was that he no longer had his headache.

Guess there are pros and cons to anything.

As they passed the nurses' desk, a nurse reached for a clipboard and walked alongside the gurney. "Aloha. My name is Leilani and I'm you're nurse for the next few hours. She waited beside his bed while the gurney was positioned next to it.

And Steve waited for the question.

"Can you tell me your name and birth date, please?"

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

"Good."

_What would she do if I gave a false name? Throw me outta here? Hmmm… that's an option._

"Think you can scoot over here?" she asked.

He thought and scooted while she removed the IV and hung it onto a pump. Steve still had the BP cuff from the ER on his arm which had annoyingly inflated every fifteen minutes all day. She took it off.

"I think we can get rid of this for a while. Are you in any pain?"

"No, not now," he said, surprised that it was true. "Could I have some ice though?"

She made a face. "I'm sorry but they still have you as NPO because you're having surgery tomorrow. I'll double check with the surgeon's office and see if I can do anything, but they can be real sticklers for rules. Why don't you try to get some sleep? From your chart, looks like you've had a long few hours."

"Oh, yeah," Steve said, realizing he was tired. Maybe a nap wouldn't hurt. He tried to move to get more comfortable in bed and Leilani held the pillow stationary while he situated himself. "Here are the bed controls if you want to go up or down. Call button is right here, and don't hesitate to use it if you need to."

"Thanks."

He closed his eyes and didn't need another reminder to go to sleep.

"Commander?" a voice called and he opened his eyes. It had felt like just a couple of minutes, but the hands on the wall clock let him know he had been asleep for almost an hour and a half. He turned and looked at the apologetic Leilani.

"Sorry to wake you, but the doctor's assistant was adamant that you remain NPO. I'm not supposed to do this, but I have a compromise." She showed him a green sponge on a stick before she put it into a small cup. "This is the best I can do. Swish this around in your mouth and it should help with the dryness." She handed it to him and he greedily sucked out the moisture before putting it back into the cup.

"Sorry, but I haven't had anything to drink since last night around eight," he admitted.

"And that was before the endoscopy which also dried out your mouth," she reminded him. "Now, I'll let you in on a secret. I wanted this water to be cold so I added a few ice cubes. I wouldn't be at all surprised if a couple of them landed in your mouth."

He looked at her and slowly grinned. "I might accidently upend the cup."

"Possibly," she replied with a grin of her own. "Just don't drink all the water. One of us might get into trouble if you get sick."

Steve fished an ice cube out of the water and popped it into his mouth as she turned to go. "Thanks."

"Call if you need anything."

He dozed back off until another voice called his name. "Mr. McGarrett? I'm from the Lab and I need some more blood."

Steve pressed the button on the bed and raised the head so that he could sit up a bit.

She set down her supplies and reached for his arm band.

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

"Why thank you. Sorry but we have to ask that all the time.

"I noticed," he said, not one bit sarcastically. "I'm also not allergic to either medications or Latex."

"You're gonna talk me out of a job," she said with a grin.

"No, you can still draw the blood," he assured her when she knotted the tourniquet. He was surprised; she had the needle in and he hadn't even felt anything.

He dozed some more until he felt someone's presence. Opening his eyes, he saw Leilani next to the IV pump.

"Didn't mean to wake you," she said.

"S'OK."

"They ordered a regimen of a couple different antibiotics. One will enter through the pump and I'll push the other one. Sorry, but it needs to go in slowly." She began the slow push. "Did the sleep help any?"

"Yeah, only now that's all I want to do."

"Well, anesthesia kind of tends to work that way." She glanced at the clock while pulling the syringe from his tubing. "Hey, it's been nice meeting you. My shift is over at seven, but I'll bring in the night nurse to introduce you before I leave. I hope you sleep well tonight and get that gall bladder out of there tomorrow."

"You and me, both."

They were interrupted by an aide who came to take his vitals.

"Grand Central Station tonight," Steve muttered, holding out his arm.

"Can you tell me your name and birth date, please?" the young girl asked.

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

"Thank you, Sir. I'll be out of here in just a minute." She first placed the BP cuff on his arm, then the clip on his finger before asking him to open his mouth for temperature."

"Any temp?" Ellen asked.

"Ninety seven point two," she replied. "Doing good." She removed the cuff and turned to leave when Ellen smiled at him. "You need to be warned. You will hear every joke in the book about 'how you lost your gall', 'how people thought you always had gall, but they were wrong', and my personal favorite, 'you're now one of the rolling stones.' People are just a bundle of laughs," she said. "And I should know, my gall bladder came out about five months ago. Trust me, it isn't really that bad. Unfortunately you've just had a couple of bumps in the road."

"Just as long as it's over soon," Steve replied. "I don't have time to sit around waiting. I need to get back to my team." As if on cue, Chin and Kono walked into the room. "Speaking of team…"

"Good night, Commander. I'll see you tomorrow," Leilani told him.

"Hey, Boss," Kono said, grinning at him while leaning in for a hug. "Love the look."

"Don't start, Kalakaua."

"How'zit it going, Brah?"

"Slowly," Steve admitted. "What's up with Sanchez?"

They looked at each other and laughed. "Less than 30 seconds," Chin said.

"Come on, guys."

"We have chatter. They may move in the morning. But… we can handle it. Kame said you're having the surgery tomorrow, so that's your job. Just be patient and let us do ours, OK?"

"But what if—"

"Hey, Boss, we got this. Don't worry," Kono added. "You trust us, right?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "You know I do. It's just that—"

"Just that you aren't right in the middle of it," Chin finished for him. "We got your back."

"Yeah. I know. Thanks."

"We've got another meeting with HPD and didn't know how long it would go, so we decided to run over here now. Sorry," Kono said, "but we can't stay."

"Not a problem. Thanks for coming."

"Can we bring you anything?" Chin asked.

Steve shook his head. "Can't think of anything," he replied when Leilani came back in with someone else in tow.

"OK, we're outta here, Boss. You behave yourself!" Kono said with another hug. "Catch you later."

"Keep me in the loop," Steve shouted when they walked out the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Chin replied.

"Commander McGarrett, this is the night nurse, Ensign Ellen McCauley."

"Commander, nice to meet you. Please call me Ellen."

"Steve."

"The commander is still NPO," Leilani reminded them. "I tried to get the status moved off until midnight, but so far, no luck."

"Oh, that is silly," Ellen said. "I'll go see what I can do," she promised when Leilani waved goodbye. "Now, anything I can do for you?"

"Well, I could go to the bathroom. Can I get up to do it?"

_I'll hold it if I have to use a bedpan._

"Of course. You're not restricted," she said, while reaching down to unplug the IV pump from the wall. "Your little friend here has to go where you go. Have you been up since before the Endoscopy?"

"I haven't been up since last night."

"OK, take it slow and just sit on the side of the bed for a minute. Any dizziness?"

"No, I'm good." He stood up and quickly reached around for the back of his gown.

"Steve, rule number one, you have to get over that shyness." She pulled the gown together and held it at his waist. "You push the pump, I'll take care of the gown."

"Yes, ma'am."

They walked to the bathroom door and she pushed it open for him. "There is a call button on the wall if you feel sick. If you are, don't try to make it back to bed by yourself."

"Thanks."

"I'll be back in later," she promised. "I'm going to call that surgeon's office and give them a piece of my mind!"

_**~~~H50~~~**_

"Good news!"

Steve raised up on his elbow.

Ellen came to his bedside. "The doctor is rewriting the orders." She glanced at the clock. "For the next three hours, you are free to have some food and water. What's your pleasure?"

"All I really want is ice," Steve admitted. "And a toothbrush would be great."

"Coming right up," she told him and returned a minute later. "Are you sure you don't want any food?"

He thought about it. "I'm not sure. Nothing sounds very good right now," he admitted.

"That's fine. If you don't want it, we don't need to push the issue. "How's that ice?" she asked, grinning at him not even using a spoon, but reaching in the cup with his fingers, greedily shoving them into his mouth.

He grinned. "Pretty damn good, to be honest." He hesitated before speaking again.

"What do you need?" she prompted.

"There's no way I could get a shower, is there?" he asked, remembering the huge glass shower stall in the bathroom.

"I don't see why not," she replied, making him very happy. "There's no reason you can't. I just need to tape up the IV. Let me get some supplies and I'll be back in.

~~~H50~~~

Long showers were one of life's guilty pleasures. And Steve took every advantage of it; in fact, the bathroom was steamed when he opened the glass door. Ellen had provided soap, shampoo and a toothbrush, which he gladly reached for.

_Wonder how much this stuff costs?_ He idly thought while brushing his teeth. _Probably the most expensive toothpaste you've ever used._

He finished in the bathroom and was getting back into bed when Ellen returned with some supplies. "How'd that feel?"

"Insanely wonderful," he admitted.

She held out a new, clean gown. "Sorry I didn't get this to you before you came out, but for surgery, they want you to wear a yellow gown. You might as well put it on now since we don't know what time they'll call for you tomorrow. And you need to lose the underwear, they don't accept those either." She reached around him and untied the strings and then unsnapped the shoulder so that his arm with the IV could come out of the sleeve. "You pull that one off and I'll put this one on," she told him.

He didn't have a choice but to do what she asked.

"I know you're shy but drop those drawers," she said.

He rolled his eyes, but did what she asked, then added them to the plastic bag they had placed his clothes in.

"If you can go ahead and get back in bed, I've got another fashion accessory for you," Ellen said, holding up a pair of white socks.

He sat up in bed and she sat on the end of it, placing his foot in her lap. "These are to lessen the risk of blood clots," she told him while rolling the tight, white stocking up to his knee. Once finished, she reached for the other foot. That task completed, she held up a pair of fuzzy gray socks. "They want you to keep these on as well so that you don't slip and fall," she said, sliding the socks on.

"They're hot," he said.

"Unfortunately, yes, they are," she agreed. "But necessary." Gathering up her plastic bags, she left the room.

And there he sat, staring at his feet, wondering just how it had come to this.

_**~~~H50~~~**_

_**The saga will finish in a couple of days!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you so much for the reviews for this story. Here is the final part for you to snicker at. At least, I hope it makes you laugh. **_

_**'A'ole, nein,non, nada, nyet, NO!**_

_**by Cokie**_

_**~~~H50~~~**_

_**Chapter 2**_

_**~~~H50~~~**_

_**Still Thursday evening...**_

Ellen came back in near eleven with her arms loaded once again. "I've got something else for you to wear," she warned him.

Steve opened his eyes and groaned. "What now?"

"Compression socks to help with your circulation. "Just lay still, I'll get them on you. They pump air through the membranes in the rubber socks. Don't worry, you'll get used to the feeling."

He reached for some ice, watching the clock on the wall. "I've got an hour left and I'm going to eat as much of this as I can."

She grinned. "If I brought some applesauce, would you try to eat it?"

He thought, then shrugged. "Yeah, it kinda sounds good."

"Good, it might actually help you sleep to have a little something on your stomach. I'll get it when I finish here."

Steve was eating his applesauce near midnight when his phone rang. He grabbed it and saw Danny's face on the screen. "Hey! Isn't it kind of late there?"

"No, in fact it is early. Very, very early," Danny replied. "I really had forgotten just how long that flight was."

"Everything OK?"

"That's my line," Danny said, but then added, "Yeah, we're at my sister's house. Grace was excited, but finally crashed a while ago. Unfortunately I'm still wired. Now... what's going on?"

"Had an endoscopy today and they took a couple stones out of a bile duct. Supposed to get the gall bladder out tomorrow. Or, so they say. I'll believe it when it happens."

"It will happen. Are you having any pain?"

"No, nothing. Just a scratchy throat. They finally let me have some ice, but are cutting me off at midnight."

Danny heard him slurp another piece of ice. "So, I take it, you're eating ice right up until midnight?"

"Down to the minute," Steve assured him. "Hey, I was thinking, why are you coming back this weekend? Go ahead and stay a few days."

"Can't. Grace has an Aloha Girls banquet on Sunday night, and in her words, "Her life will be over if she missed it. And we can't have that."

"No, I guess not. OK, I guess I'll see you Sunday."

"Yeah, don't give them too much grief there, you hear me? Mind your manners, Steven."

"Yes, Mom."

"Hey, speaking of, have you called-"

"NO! And don't you dare."

"Calm down, just asking," Danny laughed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Or later today. Or whenever it is. Maybe jet lag has set in."

"Get some sleep, Danno."

"You, too. Later."

~~~H50~~~

Steve remembered Ellen changing out his antibiotic right after midnight and then he slept. In fact, he didn't wake up until 3:50, when a voice called his name.

"Commander McGarrett?"

"Hmmm?"

"Commander, I'm Dr. Swenson from Anesthesiology. I understand you had an endoscopy yesterday and want to make sure you are feeling OK after the anesthesia."

"Yeah?"

"So, how are you feeling?"

_A little sleepy, you idiot._ "OK. Sleepy."

"All right. That's good to know. You take care of yourself."

As he left, Steve looked at the clock. _You wake me up before 0400 just to ask how I feel? _

That was it for sleep for a few hours. In rapid succession, Steve had visits from the nurse, the aide, the lab tech, another anesthesiologist when Steve said an anesthesiologist had just been there, it was explained that the other one was for yesterday's endoscopy, this one was here for today's surgery... apparently everyone has a specific job, the nurse again, and someone from the surgeon's staff. Each of them asked name, birth date and half of them also wanted an update on medication and Latex allergies.

After all, one may have developed overnight.

You just never know.

Somewhere in all that, he finally fell back asleep while listening to the swoosh of his feet in those silly blue tubes blowing air. When he woke again, another nurse was in the room and it was 0930. He blinked in the morning light coming from the window, and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning," Leilani said. "Sleep well?"

"Unh. Yeah, I guess. That is after everyone quit coming in the room."

"Yes, unfortunately it is like Grand Central Station here in the mornings. Do you need to get up?"

"Yeah, I do," Steve quickly replied, then looked down at his feet. "How do I do that?"

"We can get rid of them for a while," she assured him, unplugging the 'socks' from the air supply. "I still don't have a time for your surgery, so who knows when they will show up."

Steve sat on the side of the bed and winced, which immediately got her attention.

"What's up? Stomach acting up?"

"No, my headache's back," he mumbled while standing and reaching for the IV pump.

"I'll get the Tylenol," she said. "Call me if you need help getting back to bed."

~~~H50~~~

Two hours and two Tylenol later, the headache was worse. Light was coming in through the slats in the blinds on the window and it felt like a strobe light piercing right into his brain. Finally, he placed a pillow over his head and tried to ride it out.

"Commander McGarrett, are you in there?" a voice asked.

"Max? Headache."

"Ah. I see. But unfortunately it has been proven that suffocation is not an effective means of ridding oneself of a headache."

Steve pulled off the pillow. "You sure about that?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the coroner replied, one side of his mouth quirking up in a smile. "Other than the headache, how do you feel?"

"Hot, sticky, bored, tired..."

"Cranky," Max added.

"You sound like Danny."

"Just my medical opinion," Max replied. "This should be over very soon. And then you can return home."

"Not soon enough," Steve vowed, then looked up when Leilani came into the room followed by a gurney.

""It's show time," she announced. "Are you ready to get this over with?"

"Finally," Steve muttered.

"I will check on you later, Steve. Good luck."

"Thanks, Max."

"Can I have your name and birth date?" the orderly inquired.

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77," he said while scooting from the bed onto the gurney. He quickly was situated and they moved him out into the hall to collect the chart, etc. Once in the hallway with the bright lights blaring down, he took the pillow from behind his head and put it over his eyes again, knowing that the movement would do him in. And throwing up with an empty stomach would not be pleasant.

He was fine until the elevator doors closed and the small car dropped. "Unnnhh," came the indistinguishable word from beneath the pillow.

"Are you OK?"

"Let's just say that you should be very glad I haven't eaten for a while."

When they reached pre-op, Steve saw that it was 1330 and he had hope that once this was over, he could be home before the night was over. More labs were drawn, his vitals taken, EKG leads stuck all over him and more people repeatedly asked his name and birth date. Like every time the same person came into his room.

They certainly believed in security around here. No chance of identity theft.

Anesthesiology was back and asked for his history... again. As if it wasn't all recorded in that chart the lady was flipping through. So, he dutifully recalled everything once again. But when she was finished, she was kind enough to turn out the light which was glaring in his eyes as she left.

And then he waited.

Again.

He kept one eye on the clock as 1430 came and went. Along with 1530 and 1600. People came in occasionally to check on him, but no one had any idea how long this holding pattern would be. Apparently when the doctor called to say he was leaving his office and to prep the patient... well, that didn't mean he would be here in this millennium.

The last straw was another anesthesiologist entering the room, asking the same questions as the person before.

"Look, I just told someone all this three hours ago."

The man apologized. "I do understand. Unfortunately, her shift is over and I am taking over for her. Just give me the Cliff's Notes version and I'll read the chart."

But they were spared the Cliff Notes when a nurse entered. "Dr. Bennett is prepping in the OR, so when you two are ready, we're set to go. Would you like a pre-op to relax you?"

"Hell, I'm relaxed enough. Let's just do this!"

"Then let's go," the anesthesiologist said, leaving the room. "See you there."

Steve quickly was wheeled up to the doors to the OR where the nurse stopped and retrieved a nice little baggy to fit on his head. "You need a party hat to join the fun," she told him, pushing open the doors to the frigid room where he was met by the anesthesiologist and a nurse who helped him scoot onto the operating table.

This was also rather foreign to him. Any time he had had surgery in the past, he had been unconscious or so overly loopy at this point that he didn't remember any of this. This room looked pretty daunting. He was covered in a warm blanket and then they stole his gown.

"OK, I'm going to give you some oxygen by mask to open your airway and then I'll start the anesthesiology through your IV." The mask was placed over his nose and mouth and he wanted to tell them that he was suffocating and in no way was his airway opened.

He raised his arm in protest to the inability to breathe, but then, all of a sudden, it didn't matter one way or the other.

~~~H50~~~

Sound came back first. Loud sounds. One woman was complaining that 'he' hadn't paid any attention to her last night at the party. Steve remembered they had given him a party hat earlier and he sincerely hoped she wasn't talking about him because he couldn't even remember the party at all.

Then he realized she wasn't talking to him. Besides, he had... what's her name... oh, yeah, Cath to go to parties with.

He tried to open his eyes, but green lights were dancing on two panels in his line of vision. And that made him dizzy, so he closed his eyes and tried to decide where he was.

Space ship.* Maybe the party was on a space ship. _Cool. Never been to a party on a space ship before._

"Commander?"

_Now she's talking to me._

"Are you awake yet? Can you open your eyes?"

"Hmm, lights."

"Sorry, I've turned them down as much as I can. How do you feel?"

"M'good."

"Do you need anything for pain?"

"Not sure."

"I want to keep you comfortable. Any nausea?"

"No." _This doesn't sound like a space ship any more. Bummer._

"That's good. Get some rest. We'll get you back in your room soon." He heard her ask for something called Toradol and he didn't know what it was, but he felt it when it rushed through his veins. He still didn't know what it was, but he thought he liked it…

He woke up when the gurney began to move. And again when they left the elevator. And next when they asked him to climb into bed.

And then he slept.

* The space ship with the green flashing lights was my first waking thought. :)

~~~H50~~~

Steve woke and yawned, and then stared at the clock, trying to make sense of the time. He looked toward the window and decided it was still Friday. The clock read 8:00 which meant he had slept for a few hours after the surgery. He felt his stomach under the gown, finding four separate small bandages, the largest one over his belly button. And that one kind of hurt. Nothing major, but he wouldn't say no if someone wanted to make it stop. He was also thirsty again and couldn't wait until someone came in bringing more ice.

Unfortunately, he was sorely disappointed.

Ellen was back for the night and she came in a few minutes later, waking Steve up. He looked at the clock again and realized more time had passed and that he must have fallen asleep. Again. This was getting to be a habit.

"How are you feeling?" she asked while checking the IVs.

"I'm fine," Steve replied. "But I'm thirsty. Can I have more ice?"

"Ooh, sorry, Commander. You're still NPO since they have you scheduled for an ERCP at noon."

"No, I had that yesterday," Steve reminded her.

"I just got the orders. Apparently there is another stone that made its way into the bile duct before surgery. The surgeon tried to get it out but was unsuccessful, so you need another endoscopy."

Steve stared. Surely he didn't hear her correctly.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"No, and just be glad they decided to do the procedure on Saturday. Many times, they would hold you over until Monday morning."

"How about if I leave and come back?"

Ellen grinned and shook her head. "I don't think the doctor would approve of that. Besides, once they let you go, I'm guessing you would 'forget' to show back up."

He huffed. "You know, on Wednesday when I got to the hospital, I was told this was outpatient surgery and I would be home early the next day. Someone lied."

"Yeah, sometimes these things happen. But if you hadn't had the stones in your duct, things would have been easier. Let me go make a call and see if I can feed you."

"I just want ice. Still not hungry."

"OK," she replied, walking out of the room. "I'm not promising anything."

But she came through for him and he did get another jug of ice… and the same midnight deadline to stop eating it, but by midnight he was sound asleep, so he missed his own deadline.

After surgery, apparently hospitals don't give you the luxury of sleeping for four hours during the night. He was awakened at least every hour by someone wanting his name and birth date who then proceeded to stick him, poke him or pull up his gown to look at his belly.

Was there anything sacred in this place?

Steve had just about reached his limit and was beginning to hear Danny's voice in his head telling him to "go to his happy place". He wasn't sure just where that place was, but he knew it wasn't here.

He was just dozing off again when he heard another voice call to him.

"Commander?"

He ignored her.

"Commander, can you wake up for me?"

Nothing.

He felt a touch on his arm. "Come on, Commander, can you tell me your name and birth date?"

He rolled his head away from her and continued faking sleep.

Just because he could.

"Steve! Wake up!"

"What?" he growled and opened his eyes to glare at her.

"Sorry, but I need to draw blood. Can you tell me your name and birth date?"

"Steve McGarrett. 3. 10. 77. As if you didn't already know."

"Yes, I know it's a pain, but it's for your own good. I'll be finished soon. Are you allergic to any meds?"

"No. And no to Latex."

"All righty. Just hold still."

She began cleaning up and he glanced at his arm with the Bandaid already stuck down. "Humphh."

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, didn't even know when you did it."

"That's because I'm the best. But that doesn't mean people don't scream bloody murder. And you know the worst ones?"

A. He didn't. B. He truly didn't care. C. But he knew she wouldn't leave unless he responded, so he said, "No."

"All you tough boys with all the tattoos all over the place. Screaming your heads off 'cause my needle hurts. I tell them, 'I can tell that this isn't the first needle you've seen, so just hush up and let me do my job.' Just a big bunch of wusses."

"I don't recall screaming."

"No, you didn't, but most of them do. Just sayin. Now, get back to sleep. I'll leave you alone."

Oh, how he wished that was the case.

At 0430, another voice abruptly awoke him, while pulling down his sheet at the same time. "Good morning, Commander. I'm Dr. Sung and I need to check your incisions."

Before Steve could even comment, the gown was pulled up and a hand was poking him in the belly.

"Ow!"

"Sorry. These look good. Make sure you read the follow up care they give you when you go home."

And with that, he was gone.

_Not the best bedside manner I've seen._

Steve was hot, tired, grumpy and itchy when Ellen arrived a few minutes later to change out his antibiotic. He first noticed an itch when he scratched at one of the bandages on his stomach. Then is leg itched. Next was his neck. And his fingers. Then his palm. Actually, _**both**_ palms. And his thigh. And back to his belly.

Damn annoying.

"You look like you didn't get much sleep," she commented.

He glared. "Ya think?" He reached up and wiped his hand across his forehead. Then he scratched when it began itching. "Is it hot in here?"

"Actually, it is rather warm," she agreed, but placed her hand on his cheek to check for fever. "You don't feel like you have a fever, but I can turn down the thermostat. Let's see if that will help. Why are you scratching?"

"Because everything itches," he grumbled, moving his hand lightly over the incision in his belly button.

"Really? All over?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"And you haven't had any problems with allergies to medications before?"

"No. I'm not allergic. Trust me."

"It could be something developing. We have you on a couple different antibiotics, so I'll keep watch and I'll get an order for some Benadryl."

"I. Am. Not. Allergic."

"OK, I believe you. Do you need something for pain?" she asked.

"It's not too bad." He wasn't going to scratch. _Just ignore it and it will go away. You have been taught to have control. Use that control._

He scratched.

"And by that, I'm guessing it is also not too good. With some pain meds and something for the itch, I bet you can get a little sleep."

The operative words were "a little sleep" because that's all he had. Thankfully the itching stopped. Not that he was allergic to anything, but the Benadryl apparently helped. But by 0700, someone was back in the room wanting more blood.

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77 and I'm not allergic to anything but you just took blood a couple hours ago!"

"It's a special request from Dr. Lavery prior to your endoscopy. Sorry about this."

Steve looked at his left arm where they continued to 'drill' for blood, checking the various bruises. The right arm had had the same IV in it since he arrived at Queens… which felt like weeks ago, so he knew it was going to look about as bad as this one.

"Tell Dr. Lavery I'm going to begin charging by the vial."

"Yes, Sir, I will," she grinned at him.

He wasn't kidding.

Mid-morning, he was walking back to bed from the bathroom, hunched over like someone's grandpa when he heard a giggle behind him.

"Mornin', Boss."

He grabbed the gown tighter. "Kono, that's not funny!"

She patted his arm as she walked by. "I didn't see anything. Promise."

"You're looking spry this morning," Chin said, following Kono into the room.

"Yeah, like I'm 90," Steve complained. "Ya never know how much you use your stomach muscles until you don't want to use them."

"I hear you. Just pace yourself. Are they springing you from here today?"

"Who knows? I have to go back for another endoscopy this morning. There's another stone they couldn't get yesterday. After that, I'm sure they'll think of another reason to lock me away." He gingerly sat on the side of the bed. "Now, what's going on with Sanchez?"

"He's in HPD custody," Chin replied, with a wide grin. "Along with his buyers and all of his crew. We have the drugs and we also have the money. It was quite a haul."

"So, it's over?"

"Yes, finally," Kono replied. "And some of Sanchez's crew are trying to plea bargain. We're learning all sorts of things about what Sanchez has been involved in."

Steve nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good work, guys."

"Anytime," Chin assured him.

"Told you we could do it," Kono added.

"I didn't doubt you at all," Steve said, trying to gracefully lie back in the bed. Something that wasn't easy while wearing a gown and with no stomach muscles to hold himself up. He tried sliding, and then rolling before Kono took pity on him.

"Look, Steve," she told him, then pressed the button on the bed to raise the head of it. "Set the bed up and then lean against it and _then_ lay the bed back down."

"Huh. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Learned that when Auntie Leila was sick."

He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally could relax against the bed. "Thanks."

"What time is this endoscopy thing?" Chin asked.

"They said noon. But yesterday I left the room at 1330 and didn't have surgery until 1700, so who knows."

Kono stifled a yawn and Steve caught it. "Were you guys up all night?"

"Almost," she replied, looking sheepish. "Sorry for yawning."

"Go home," Steve commanded. "Both of you. And get some sleep. I'll see you Monday morning."

"We may see you on Monday, but it had best not be in the office," Kono warned.

"Hey, I'll be fine by then."

"Uh, you'd better rethink that," Chin warned. "Besides, Danny will be back by then and I'm sure he will be in Mother Hen mode."

"Don't remind me," Steve said. "See you guys later. And really, great job on getting Sanchez."

"Thanks," they both replied, with Kono yawning once again. "See you later, Boss."

"Yeah, later."

~~~H50~~~

Steve was bored. He hated to wait and he didn't feel like doing anything other than close his eyes and doze. Only no one would let him.

At 1130, another doctor arrived. "Commander. I'm on Dr. Lavery's staff and I've got some good news for you. He reviewed your liver enzymes this morning and has determined that the stone the surgeon saw yesterday has either passed through the cut he made in your bile duct, or it was quite possibly a bubble. But as of this time, he doesn't think you need the endoscopy."

"So I can go home?"

"Well, I'm not the one to ask that. Dr. Bennett will have to sign you out. And, you will have to have another blood test in a week to check the enzymes to ensure they haven't risen again."

"But I don't need any more tests?"

"Not to my knowledge. At least, Dr. Lavery doesn't think so."

"OK, cool. Thanks."

"Take care of yourself."

When he left, Steve smiled. _I'm getting out of this place. Finally._

He heard a clattering at the door and Leilani and an orderly came in, pushing a gurney. The orderly glanced at the chart and then to Steve. "Can you give me your name and birth date, please?"

Steve frowned, looking at Leilani. "Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77. Why?"

Leilani was turning off the IV pump and removing one of the bags. "They're ready for you in Endoscopy."

Steve stared at them.

Perplexed.

"Uh, no."

The orderly looked at the chart once again. "Nope, it says right here, Steve McGarrett, endoscopy at noon today. That's you, right?"

"Yeah, but that guy who just left here said I don't need the endoscopy. Dr. Lavery said so. Go ask him, you had to have seen him. He just walked out."

"That's not the orders I have," the kid argued. "It's my job to get you down to Endoscopy."

"Well, you'd better figure something out because I'm not getting on that gurney," Steve warned him.

"OK, hang on, let me go check," Leilani said, hoping to prevent the outbreak of another world war.

The orderly followed her out, leaving behind his gurney.

Which Steve had _**no**_ intention of getting on.

Leilani came back with a smile. "Well, you were right. The orders just hadn't been updated in the system yet. No endoscopy today."

"Good," Steve said as the kid and the gurney both disappeared without a word. One would think he got paid by the number of patients he pushed around the hospital.

"So," Steve began. "When do I get out of here?"

"Well, the orders for the endoscopy were just changed. Let me see if they have updated the discharge orders."

Steve glanced at the clock and calculated. 1215. By 1400 he could be sitting on his lanai eating his own ice.

Leilani came back in. "Good news. Once you show us you can eat and keep it down, you can get out of here."

"Good. Only I'm not hungry," Steve told her. "So, can I just go?"

She shook her head. "No. The orders state you have to go from clear liquids to a meal and keep it all down. Then you can leave. Let me get you a clear liquid menu."

Food.

Steve's stomach turned at the thought.

When she returned, she handed him the menu and showed him the number to call for Dietary. The clear liquid diet was limited, but she said to choose a couple of things on it.

He chose ginger ale and red Jello. How the hell is red anything considered 'clear'? But the other choices were yellow Jello ick and clear vegetable broth double ick.

Twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the door before entering. "I've got food. Can you tell me your name and birth date?"

_Oh, good grief. It's FOOD!_

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

"Here you go, enjoy."

Steve stared at it and calculated. He had eaten Sunday night, eaten Monday night when everything known to mankind had come up, and then had a bowl of soup on Wednesday… which also came up. Ice and a small cup of applesauce on Thursday, nothing at all on Friday and here he was on Saturday, staring at red jello with his stomach turning. He didn't want this. And he definitely didn't plan to 'enjoy' it.

He wanted ice.

And his own house, with its door he could lock. And where no one would ask him his name or birth date.

But, in order to get that, he had to eat this.

So he choked it down. Jello had never really been a favorite, but he had eaten it on occasion. What he had eaten was nothing like this. Thick, really gelled, no taste. Nasty. At least he had ginger ale to wash it down.

Only the ginger ale tasted nothing like it was supposed to. He ate the ice. And then he sort of poured most of the ginger ale down the bathroom sink.

When Leilani returned half an hour later, the Jello bowl was empty and so was the cup of ginger ale. "How does your stomach feel?" she asked. "Any nausea?"

"No, not really. I just didn't feel hungry," Steve told her.

"Well, let's give it a little longer and then I'll bring you the liquid diet."

"That's what I just had," Steve said, a confused look on his face.

"Oh, no, that was the _clear_ liquid diet. The next one is just a liquid diet. It has more choices on it, but you need to eat this and then we'll order you a meal."

"But I'm really not hungry," Steve again told her.

"If you really can't eat it, we can have clear liquids tonight and then you can go home maybe after breakfast in the morning."

_No way in hell._

"OK, I'll eat."

His stomach churned at the words.

~~~H50~~~

Not many choices on the liquid diet, but there were two soups. One was called "blended" chicken noodle". Leilani said that it was thrown into a blender so that there were no chunks.

_Yeah, right._

Steve knew there would be chunks. There would be lots of them as they came back up.

The other choice was tomato soup, which his mom used to make. He liked that. And there was ice cream. You can't really go wrong with ice cream… right?

So he placed his second food order of the afternoon.

And was shot down. The person on the other end of the phone said he was on a "clear liquid" diet and he needed to only order from that menu. He told her he had just had a clear liquid diet and had been upgraded to this yummy stuff.

She didn't buy it and said he needed to talk to his nurse.

He hung up the phone and hit the nurse's call button.

"May I help you?"

"She won't give me food!"

"Ah, just a moment, Sir, let me get your nurse."

Moments later, Leilani rushed into the room. "What's the problem?"

"I called Dietary and they said I'm still on 'clear liquids' and won't give me soup."

"Oh, sorry, I'll make the phone call. That was probably my mistake."

Steve glared at the clock. So much for 1400 on the lanai. It was now almost 1500.

When the food arrived, Steve stared at it for several minutes, his stomach telling him he really didn't want tomato soup. But he finally decided to try and took the first bite. Only to discover that it was really good. And then his second thought was, _this will look disgusting if it comes back up._

He managed to eat almost all of the soup. But the more he stared at the ice cream (chocolate and vanilla, a cup of each), he knew that there was no way. The soup was sort of hovering… just waiting to make its second appearance.

Steve laid back on the bed, not moving for fear of jostling something that didn't need jostled. _Please, please, please stay down._

When Leilani returned, she was pleased that the soup bowl was empty. Steve realized it didn't take a lot to make some people happy. "Any nausea?" she asked.

"None," he said, lying through his gritted teeth. If he opened his mouth, he was afraid everything inside would take that as an invitation to come right back up.

"Good. I'll bring you a solid food menu to choose from. With luck, we will have you out of here in a couple of hours."

One can only hope.

Steve continued to lounge on the bed, realizing he had become a slug in just four short days. He couldn't wait to get back home and into his exercise routine. He missed swimming as not only exercise, but as a way of clearing his head. He didn't just like it, he _needed_ it.

When Leilani finally came back in, she woke him. _When did you fall asleep, you wuss?_

"I know you said you weren't hungry," she began, "so I have a compromise."

"OK, what?"

"I know you want to leave. How about instead of ordering a meal, I bring you some peanut butter and crackers. If you can keep them down, I'll get your walking papers."

"Deal," Steve readily agreed. Surely he would keep down crackers.

And he did. Only this time, Leilani was present, hovering and watching. So he dutifully ate the six crackers and most of the peanut butter although it stuck at the back of his throat and no amount of water was going to force it down.

"You think that's going to stay down?" she asked. "You look kind of peaked."

"I'm good," he assured her. "But I can't eat anything else."

She nodded. "I understand. Let me start working on your discharge papers." She unhooked his IV and removed the needle from his arm before adding a Bandaid. "There you go. It won't take too long for the orders, so why don't you go ahead and change clothes. Let me know if you need anything."

Steve breathed a sigh of relief when she left. He could play this charade for a few more minutes and if he needed to throw up, he could do it at home. He couldn't believe how long it took him to change from a gown into shorts and a tee shirt, but was thankful that the shorts Danny had thrown to him on Wednesday night had a tie at the waist. Even that hurt setting right there on his belly button.

Changing clothes tired him out and he laid back down on the bed, cursing himself for his own laziness. He kept one eye on the clock, wondering where Leilani went off to, debating whether to press the call button to send out a search party.

He was ready to go. Once he had those papers, he planned to call Chin and ask for a ride home.

Home. What a wonderful word. He could hardly wait. But while he was waiting, maybe he would just close his eyes.

Just for a minute.

Steve awoke to giggling.

_Girly_ giggling.

He opened his eyes to find Grace and Danny standing next to his bed. He blinked and wondered if he was seeing things.

Until Grace spoke. "Uncle Steve, we've been staring at you for like forever."

He raised the head of the bed. "What are you guys doing back?" He looked at the clock to see if maybe he slept all night.

"Our plane just landed," Danny answered. "And Grace had to see you before she goes home to sleep. It's been another long day."

"I bet," Steve agreed. "Same here. So, how was the trip?"

"Fun," Grace said. "My Nonna was really surprised and happy. How are you?"

"I'm good," Steve said. "Just waiting for my paperwork so I can go home."

"Great!" Danny said, pulling around the chair when Grace sat on the foot of the bed. "Would you like a ride?"

"Well, yeah, if you don't mind. I was going to call Chin, but had to wait until they get the papers ready. She's taking forever," he grumbled."

"No need. We can take you home, right Grace?"

"Sure," she said with a bob of her head. "Can I see your stitches?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Uh, no."

"Pretty please, Uncle Steve. That way I can tell my friends in Aloha Gi—"

"Absolutely, positively NO! Besides all you can see is Bandaids."

She stopped her begging, but then brightened. "No problem, I'll get to see your scars when you go swimming."

Leilani finally returned, saving him a reply.

"Can I go?" he asked, ready to scoot off the bed.

"Hold on, in a couple of minutes," she warned. "First we need to go over your instructions." She set the papers down on the bedside tray and began glancing through them. "Can you give me your name and birth date?"

"Seriously?"

"Rules," she said with a shake of her head.

"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."

She checked off a box on her paper. "All right, you have one prescription to be filled," she began. "You should take it at least for a couple of days after you get home. You may not feel too badly, but don't let the pain take over."

"OK." He wanted to hurry this along.

"Call Dr. Bennett's office for an appointment next week. He wants to see you on either next Friday or the following Monday. You have stitches, steri-strips and Bandaids over each of your four incisions. Don't take any of them off… if the Bandaids come off, that is fine, but don't bother the steri-strips. You can take showers, but no baths, and no swimming or strenuous activity until after your appointment."

"OK—wait, what? I can't swim? Why can't I swim?"

"As I said," she replied, peering at him over the papers. "No strenuous activity."

"You've got to be kidding…"

"Sorry. If you begin vomiting or have pain in your abdomen, come back to the ER. Stay hydrated and relax for a few days. He will probably clear you for duty after your doctor's visit."

"Wait! No, I'm not taking off work all next week."

"Well, I would highly recommend it," Leilani replied. "You may wish you had."

"Don't worry," Danny told her. "If he comes to work, I'll tie his butt to the chair. No way will he do anything strenuous in the field."

"Good." She glanced over her forms once again. "Now, if you will just sign here, then initial here, here and here."

"There. Now can I go?"

"Yes, just as soon as I get an orderly and a wheel chair."

"I can walk."

"Maybe you can, but you're not," she said with a grin. "Commander, it has been a pleasure. But you will wait here and ride downstairs, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am. And thanks."

"You're welcome. Take care of yourself."

When she left, Steve scrubbed his hand through his hair. "I can't wait to get out of this place. This has been the longest four days of my life."

"I sincerely doubt that," Danny said. "You've been in the hospital for longer than this… and those have been some of the longest days of _**my**_ life."

"Yeah, but generally, I don't remember a lot of those days. Not like this anyway."

"But I remember those days," Danny reminded him.

"And I've been thinking," Steve said. "I want a new tattoo in case I ever have to be admitted again."

"What? A hospital tattoo… is this like a prison tattoo or something?"

"No, but everyone who walked into this room has asked me my name and birth date. Probably 48 times a day. And then half of them want to know if I'm allergic to meds or Latex. I'm thinking of tattooing: _**"Steve McGarrett; 3.10.77; Not allergic to Latex"**_ somewhere on my body. Maybe here on my arm." He held up his forearm to show. "Hell, I might even tattoo it on my forehead if it will get them to quit asking."

"I'm sure Catherine would truly appreciate your lovely forehead tattoo," Danny said with a laugh. "And I think you've had way too much time to lie here and think."

"You've got that right. Where the heck is that orderly?"

Just as he spoke, they heard the wheels squeaking on the tile floor and the dreaded wheel chair appeared.

"I'm Casey and I'm ready to take you downstairs. But first, can you tell me your name and birth date?"

_**~~~H50~~~**_

**_If you have made it this far, thank you so much for reading. This was meant to be a silly little story and I never dreamed it would end up at 41 pages. But I wanted to record my tale and I thought that "allowing" Steve to share it would be the way to go._**

**_I have to say that each of the hospital employees I met was wonderful. The nurses, doctors, aides, lab techs, everyone was great and I highly commend them. Even those two strange EMS gals were nice… quite interesting, but nice. Please don't take offense if I poked fun at your profession. I really appreciate each of these people and what they did for me and I have utmost praise for each of you. I definitely know I am not cut out for this type of work.  
_**

**_A lot of you have asked how I'm doing. I am fine now. Still a bit sore on occasion, but they say that will pass in a month or so. At least I can get out of bed without slithering out like a snake!_**

**_A couple of things that I didn't have Steve do. I finally got home on Saturday night around 8:30 p.m. On Sunday I was leaving my bedroom and ran right into the door knob of the bedroom door. That hurt. On Monday, I was coming into the bedroom and that same darn door hit me again… the other side of the door knob. Door = 2; Cokie = Zip._**

**_Yes, I am a klutz. _**

**_And, I promise, I will now refocus on Pali' Pali' but when all this was going on, I couldn't concentrate on writing that story. _**

**_Thanks to everyone. This is Cokie, birth date 3.16.19-older than Steve!_**

**_And I am __not_ _allergic to any medications or Latex!_**


	3. Addendum

_**Addendum**_

_**Sorry, this is just a note for those of you who were questioning my age… **_

_**When I wrote in my end notes of the story that my name was Cokie and my birth date was 3.16.19—**_

_**I meant that it was March 16, nineteen hundred and - older than Steve. As some of you pointed out, you thought I was doing pretty good for someone 94 years old! I can assure you that while I may be old, I was not born in 1919! **__** And yes, I am still older than Steve. **_

_**Just wanted to clear that up… Mahalo. **_


End file.
